


just time

by palenecromancer



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant (mostly), Rating May Change, essek has anxiety and panic attacks and possibly paranoid thoughts, i just did this for the sake of my mental health nothing else matters, other relationships implied, spoilers up to 124
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29215512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palenecromancer/pseuds/palenecromancer
Summary: Essek has confessed, and with it came the consequences. Without hearing word from the Mighty Nein for months, he doesn't think he's ready to face them again. Nor he's ready to fully open up, with their minds on the dangers ahead.---PS: In this fic, Essek confessed to the Dinasty what he did. He’s still being chased by Assembly assassins, and he didn’t go voluntarily to Eisselcross but instead he was sent there as a punishment directly from Leylas Kryn. Also, the M9 didn’t leave the Dinasty outpost outright, as it may be noted by a conversation later in the fic. These are the main changes in the canon.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Caleb Widogast, Caduceus Clay & Essek Thelyss, Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 8
Kudos: 72





	1. how do you heal when you can't find the wounds?

**Author's Note:**

> hey matt mercer if you kill the drow i will torment your dreams kisses love u
> 
> CONTAINS SPOILERS OF EPISODE 124. you've been warned. happy reading!

Every corner of his body hurt, every last bit of his soul hurt. How could that hurt? Oh, he knew the answer. The Dinasty had its ways, torture was very different in the lands of Xhorhas.

He was paying the price of his mistakes. Not because of his incompetence, which was minimal, and not because of his deception, which was optimal. It was love which doomed him. Something he could not have predicted. But as his umavi said, how could he? He was young, naïve, overly ambitious. He didn’t take into account all the risks of befriending someone. He thought himself over the perilous journey that was friendship.

He could have gone back to his ways, back to the Dinasty, without saying a word of his whereabouts to Leylas Kryn, to his brother or his umavi. But he couldn’t. He said he was going to make it right, and for that he had to accept the consequences for his actions.

Which turned out to be _several_ of them.

The torture inflicted by the Kryn soldiers didn’t leave marks, at least not visible to the naked eye. No bruises or scars to pity on, which he appreciated. He would wallow in peace, deep into a hole that he himself dug.

He expected to have a hand to get himself out of the hole. A promise never made, but expected. He had gotten too comfortable in the friendship with the Nein, the familiarity with them, that he didn’t understand the feelings of betrayal also came with the silence of the group towards him. He did understand, logically, but emotionally he just couldn't, love being so alien to him, so distant. He thought forgiveness was granted. They would check on him, right? See if he stood true to his word.

Nobody outside the general vicinity knew about his betrayal nor the torture, of course. The Dinasty couldn’t lose an asset, the Den wouldn't want to make a bad face to the others. But they would make their voices clear in their ways. And so, they sent him away, until the rumors went away or got buried. By now, he was used to the cold, but not the brightness.

His eyes hurt, and using his magic was harder and harder with each day it passed. Easy spells were okay, but the scars that decorated his body after far too many failed teleportation attempts were indicative of the ways Aeor was, in its own way, disciplining him as well. He had learned his lesson, the punishment was more than enough, but it wasn’t half as painful as not hearing anything from the Nein for weeks. Then months. The silence hurt more than any torture the Dinasty could create for him. And there were several that involved the Mighty Nein or some of his members.

Until one day a cheery, lively voice invaded his mind and he couldn’t be happier. It didn’t last long, obviously. When Jester said they were in peril, everything in his mind shot off at once. The danger was still there, the threat at his chest, the target still hanging on his back. But his friends where in danger and they needed him. The voice of Jester gave him back the breath he didn’t know he was holding. Still, he couldn't get out of the outpost; as far as everyone was concerned, he was on charge, even if he really weren't. He had to keep the act up. He didn't want them to pity him, to ask too many questions, as he was sure they would do.

And now hey were coming, and he wasn’t ready. He didn’t know what to say, how to act. He didn’t even think he was capable of looking them in the eye and acting like everything was alright. Specially Caleb, not after his last words to him, the hope that inspired him to come clean and suffer so much in the process. And for what, really? Was everything really worth it if, when he faced Caleb, that wasn't enough to show him that he was still his friends, his tutor? If he went through so much to show him that he wanted to better, what was he going to do?

Oh, he was in _so much trouble_.

***

_“Time. Not days, not weeks, not months. Time.”_ the voice of the wizard had been echoing in his head for the whole night. In the darkness, his voice used to be a beacon of hope, the only religion he brought from Rosohna. Seeing him again changed that, but he didn’t know if for the best or for the worst. Was he upset? Was he angry? Understanding, perhaps? It sounded like he understood, but his face didn’t convey the same sentiment.

He couldn’t sleep. He got up and out of his room, gliding the second his body crossed the threshold. He signaled to the guard to keep post by his door, just in case, while one of the guards covered by an invisible disguise followed behind. The night was cold, but it was dark. It felt like home.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he jumped in his spot, levitating and all, turning around to find Caleb, bundled in his winter clothes and with the familiar orange cat as a scarf, standing in the snow. Some snowflakes had fallen in his hair, and he seemed pretty uncomfortable about the cold.

“Oh, no, I didn’t go to bed just yet. I was reflecting on all the information, theorizing about your weird friend, trying to think on a strategy.” He lied effortlessly, but he didn’t look at his eyes once. He feared Caleb could catch him in a heartbeat. “It’s a lot to wrap my mind around it. Especially in my state.”

“And what may that state be, Essek?” He didn’t like how he said his name. It felt accusatory, and rightfully so. “Are you really here as a personal choice, Shadowhand? If you are still going by that title.”

He feigned surprise. He usually forgot how easy Caleb could read people. How easily he let his guard down around him. But the doubt was on him now more than ever, and if Caleb before trusted his words were truth, now he only read them as lies until proven otherwise.

“As I said, I chose this outpost”, he said, as he crossed his arms and looked to the guard. _Privacy_. As soon as they were alone, just the two wizards, he stepped down, feeling the snow crunch beneath his feet. It was easier from there not to look the human in the eye. “It was that or Bazoxxan.”

The silence between them got heavier. He was sure he didn’t need to say more about his position to make Caleb understand his situation. “Did they know?” he asked, softer than before. Almost caring.

“No, _I_ told them”, he said, looking up and a sad smile creeped on his lips when he saw a look of slight surprise in the redhead, “you didn’t think me capable of doing that, did you?” It was Caleb’s turn to look away. “I wouldn’t have expected it either if I were you. But as I said earlier, meeting you shook me to the core. Meeting _you_ specially.”

“I’m not special, Essek. But I’ve made mistakes in the past. Maybe not as big to other people, but to myself they pretty much were. I thought you were incapable of redemption, but apparently you aren’t. And I’m happy for you.” The human made a confused face when Essek let out a bitter laugh. “Am I amusing you?”

“Oh, not at all. It’s just… That is a bad choice of words, in a way”, or at least he hoped Caleb considered them that if he explained. “This has not been my only punishment. The only thing you could be happy for is that I’m not dead. Although that would take a problem off your back.”

A warm hand pressed against his cheek. Humans had a thing for that- no, _the members of the Mighty Nein_ had a thing for that. Touching, hugging, showing affection. His instinctual reaction had always been to run in the opposite direction but he was, ironically, frozen in place.

“Essek, you’re not a problem to us. You’re a problem to yourself. I’m not happy you were punished but if that made you understand that what you did was wrong, I’m also happy for that.” a phrase that could sound so detached and so cold, but Caleb made it sound almost loving. “We can’t forget our past. The scars are there to remind us what we did wrong.”

“But there’s no scars, Widogast. Not for me. They know not to leave marks.” he grabbed his hand and put distance between them, letting him go. “You need to go. You all need to go. I’m a danger to you and you’re a danger to me.”

He expected him to not comment any further, to accept his order like he was another more soldier in the outpost. But a soft smile found his face and a little chuckle escaped his lips.

“Then you’re lucky, Shadowhand,” he replied, using the same formal tone Essek used back to him, “at least maybe someday you may forget.” The way Caleb looked at him left no room for any complaints; he didn't know Caleb's story, but now he was much more curious. “And you’re being paranoid. We’re not leaving.” They have had their share of running, and Caleb, who had been chased by the Assembly the same way Essek had been, knew that running made no difference. If they wanted him dead, he would be, either in Eisselcross, in Rosohna or in any other place. “At least with us here, you have allies. They seem to be scarce in this land.”

Essek smiled, again, with a tint of sadness, looking down again. “That I am. Lucky, I mean. You all could have casted me aside, as I deserved, as many of my peers have done- but you didn’t. You came back.”

“Thank Jester for that, she may have been the first one to forgive you”, Caleb clarified, “possibly Caduceus was first, though. He doesn’t know how to hold a grudge… I think.” He chuckled softly, and offered a hand to the drow. “As I said… time. Not only for you, but for others. You have to earn back the trust you’ve lost. We can start from there”.

Essek looked at his hand, puzzled with what the human meant by the gesture. “I thought you would be furious at me.”

“Oh, I am.” He didn’t put his hand down, still offering. “As much as I’m furious at myself. It’s my curse, I can’t forget. But I can forgive, and I will. With time and _change_.”

The drow sighed, and took his hand. “Give me a chance, then?”

“ _Deal_.”


	2. cocoa and tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking about his feelings wasn't easy for Essek Thelyss. But Caduceus Clay's kindness was a gift, and he knew how to use it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> caduceus “have you heard of the wildmother” clay comes to the rescue of a confused gay drow wizard
> 
> CONTAINS SPOILERS OF EPISODE 124. you've been warned. happy reading!

“Essek? Are you awake?”

A voice shook him out of his short rest, covered in sweat and with his heart racing, threatening to escape his chest. He clasped the sheets, trying to ground himself in reality, with the vivid images of his dream still behind his eyelids. It was the bodies again, scattered among a bricked floor, resembling Rosohna. He shook his head, trying to get the image out of his mind.

“Essek? We’re gonna have breakfast, are you coming?” the voice asked again for him, with a gentle tone. It was then that he noted that the voice pertained to Caduceus Clay, who was softly trying to get him up. “ _We have no rush, Jester, there’s no need to invade his privacy”_ , he said, in a softer voice, almost inaudible.

“I’m awake, I’m awake”, he responded, voice still deeper than normal because of his recent sleep. “Go, I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

“ _See? No need_ ”, the firbolg told the blue tiefling, again in the softer tone, “We’ll see you there, take all the time you need, I’ll save a cup of cocoa for you”, he then told Essek, before the voices started to drift away from his door and towards the main hall. That man was a godsend, even for him, who didn’t believe in the gods’ powers.

He decided it would be best to take a quick bath, just enough to get the stench of sweat out of his body. For his bed, he flicked his hand and all the sheets bundle up in a corner of the room, and then back into the bed, smelling fresh. That would do- it wasn’t like he was inviting anyone over any time soon.

His tense muscles relaxed the second they touched the water. Essek couldn’t sleep without dreams, even after feeling the weight over his shoulders lighten a bit after the conversation he shared with Caleb last night. The nightmares, apparently, weren’t going anywhere any time soon. They had been there since the tortures, one of the many side-effects of the methods used by the Aurora Watch on charges of treason. It was not pleasant for the tortured, obviously, but it wasn’t any less enjoyable for the torturer. Especially for someone of his own Den.

He thought, for a second, about sending a message to Verin. Since that week, that damned week, he hadn’t talked to him, nor he had wanted to. The shame in him had kept him locked up on his own self, a prison of his own making. His brother probably hated him. He had to see with his own eyes those images, every detail of it. Every piece of his soul, open for his picking, like a putrid fruit. He wasn’t only ashamed, that he was, he was disgusted. The Shadowhand didn’t think he could have as many weaknesses as the tortures showed he had.

And the aftermath was just as gruesome, but at least it could be suffered in silence. There’s just so many dreams that can creep into just four hours of sleep.

When he arrived at the hall, the Mighty Nein were already there, hot cocoa in the hands of all of them, one on the hands of their new found friend, Dagen, plates of food dancing around them. He descended upon a chair at Fjord’s side, resting his hands one upon each other at the table. The first to notice his arrival was, of course, the firbolg.

“Here, as I promised”, he announced, putting a cup in front of him, with a big smile on his face. As Caleb said, he acted like Essek never wronged them, like he never was a participant in shaping a war between the two nations. One could call him a kind soul, but Essek knew better not to overestimate the kindness of Caduceus Clay.

“Thank you, Caduceus”, he said in return, with a very soft smile, and took the cup. He didn’t dare to look in Caleb’s general direction. Just in his dream he died clutching his chest- no, he would read the fear in his face if he looked at him now, he wouldn’t understand the root of the problem. He would think the conversation last night was all for nothing.

“You seem troubled, friend”, he expected to be alone with his thoughts after that, but Caduceus kept his gaze on him. He was too perceptive for his liking. “Worried about the journey ahead?”

“Oh, yes. I’m trying to wrap my head around it to the best of my capabilities”, which were limited, given the circumstances. In other instances, he would have searched in his Den library, or the Luxon’s one. He would have consulted anyone in Rosohna that he thought could have relevant information, even going as far as to ask certain contacts in the Empire. He had never spared any resources when it came to helping the Mighty Nein. After all, Jester always said, he was part of them too. He doubted that.

“If you need to talk, know that I’m a good listener”, he offered, not buying his excuse, “and I’m pretty good at keeping secrets.” His gaze weighed on Essek like a stone.

“Thanks for the offering, Caduceus. Maybe I’ll take your word for it”, he could use the help to make sense to everything inside him, and apparently help had shown itself in the shape of a big, pink haired, firbolg friend.

“Now now. Finish that cup, I’m making more.”

*******

Some members of the Nein were clearly more accepting than others. Beauregard was, apparently, the more distant one- she hasn’t really trusted him from the beginning, and in the end, she was right. Essek liked her, in a weird way, in which he was kind of jealous of 1) her familiarity with Caleb and 2) the fact that she was, to put it bluntly, not apologetic for anything she did. Whether you liked Beau or not, that was your problem, not hers. And Essek had wanted to be like that for as long as he could remember- his life had always been about the others- what would they think of him, what did they think of him, what would they say about him behind his back, how to please everyone around him. He just used whatever means necessary, hiding the truth with more and more lies. But there was Beau, unapologetic and honest Beauregard. And she _hated_ him.

Caleb and Beau had become inseparable, more than they were before- it wasn’t only once the times Essek wanted to have an alone moment with the wizard, whether in their house in Rosohna or in his Den’s quarters only to be completely blocked by the Cobalt Soul monk. And that meant he couldn’t get close to Widogast without having Beauregard’s gaze burning on his face. In hindsight, he appreciated the gesture, because it meant that he didn't made a fool of himself, but right now, the threat of Beauregard kicking him in the stomach if he got too close was much more present than anything the Cerberus Assembly could throw his way. Still, he needed to settle things, but he would rather die than try to talk to her in front of the others.

He caught her alone later that afternoon, changing the bandages she wore on her hands and arms, to reveal a weird shape on the back of one of her hands- a red eye. He knew some of them had tattoos, so he assumed it just was a new one. Maybe related to that friend of theirs.

“New tattoo?” he said, sitting in front of her. Like lighting, she covered the symbol with her other hand, again with the fiery gaze towards him. One would think that she was the one that could use fire magic.

“None of your business.”

He raised his hands to admit defeat, but he didn’t leave. If they were to work together inside Aeor, they should be at least in decent terms. He definitely feared her more than the Assembly Assassins- Luxon knew she was probably more capable than them.

“What do you want, Essek?” she finally asked, “I’m busy, and you should be too.”

“Oh, I have been for the past two hours. Just hoped I could strike up some conversation with a friend”, he was trying to be as careful as he could, like a traveler trying to soothe an awakening dragon.

“A friend. Right.” She started to put the bandages back on, tighter than they were before. “Look, bud, we’re acquaintances at best. Turns out we didn’t know you at all, and if we’re here is because Jester trusts you,  _ and  _ we need allies.” she tied the knot of her right arm bandages and moved to the other arm.

“I know that. But still, if you go to the battle in that mindset, because there  _ will  _ be a battle in Aeor, what good will it do that you’re like  _ this _ ?”, he put his hands on the table and looked at her, intently. “You can go back to your ways after we’re done, not talk to me for the rest of your life if that’s what you want, but for the good of our friends and for or own sake, couldn’t we have a truce?”

She looked at him like he was an alien that just crashed in the crater that was once Aeor. “A truce?” she got her feet up on the stool, in a position that couldn’t be comfortable for anyone but her, “Is this about Caleb?”

Oh Luxon, was he glad his skin was dark purple.

“What about Caleb?”

“I saw you guys last night, talking outside. I didn’t catch what you guys were saying but seemed heated and you’ve been avoiding him all day. I mean, when we arrived you couldn’t even look at him but…”

“I can’t get near him because you’re always there looking at me like you’re about to beat me to death with your bō”, he tried to explain, even if he wasn’t talking about Caleb and he didn’t want to talk about Caleb  _ at all _ . “But that’s not the point, why are we talking about Widogast?”

She looked at him again in that weird way. Then shook her head and stood up using her hands to lift herself, putting her feet down on the ground. “Look, man, you do you. I won’t be in your way as long as you don’t hurt  _ my  _ friends again. Once was way too many times”, she pointed to him, “but you should fix your shit. Talk about your feelings or something.” She seemed like she was trying way too hard to give him advice- it was  _ painful  _ to watch, “Fucking shit, I don’t know how Caduceus does this”, she muttered, just going away at the same time without really closing the conversation, and leaving Essek probably more perplexed than he was before.

*******

Why did everyone want him to talk about his feelings? First Caduceus, now, strangely, Beauregard. He was glad at least Jester wasn’t in the list of people who wanted him to open up, because he was sure he couldn’t say  _ no  _ to the tiefling. But how could he tell Jester, lovely and sweet Jester, all the things he had gone through? She would do her best to make him feel loved, she would hug him and tell him that everything was going to be alright. He didn’t deserve  _ that _ .

But he wanted to comply. Caduceus was a safe bet. The cleric of the Wildmother had seen a lot in his travels with the Nein, and seemed pretty stoic and put-together, even if he was, probably, as scared as the other members of the group. It was the kindness, he reminded himself again. He was kind enough not to show any fear, so his friends could find some solace in the eye of the hurricane.

Essek found him in a secluded spot of the back patio, sitting in a blanket over the snow, with his legs crossed over one another and a cup of tea on his hands. He had changed a lot since he last saw him, back in the coast- Clay looked weird without his long pink hair drifting in the wind. Not to talk about the pink beard that now covered half of his face. Fjord influence, he reckoned.

“Caduceus? Hope I’m not interrupting.” Even if he wasn’t a man of faith, he still respected his friends’ creeds. But the firbolg opened his eyes and smiled. “If you’re talking to your goddess, I can come back later.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I was done, just waiting for when you decided to finally approach”, he clarified, and Essek again thanked the tone of his skin. He had been going back and forth for around ten minutes, just ten meters away from him, but he again forgot how perceptive the cleric could be. “Tea?” he asked, pointing to a cup right beside him.

“Of course.”

He sat down, uncomfortable in his own body, wondering if Caduceus was going to really listen to him without judging. He would be in the complete right to say “you deserve all of that”, like Caleb did. He  _ wanted  _ him to say that.

“Elves don’t sleep, right? Must be hard to be alone with your thoughts every night”, Caduceus said, like a trivial conversation, but Essek could see worry in his eyes. “Is that why you have such a long face? I thought you would be happy to see us again.”

“Oh, no, Caduceus. I’m so happy to see you all… after what happened. I’ve missed the Mighty Nein since the day you parted ways. But you were upset, rightfully so, and I was ashamed. Not hearing from you for months was more painful than I dare to admit”, at least to the rest of the group, that was. He knew, he wanted to believe, that Caduceus would understand. “I told you in Rosohna. You have been the only people I can call friends without it feeling fake.”

His eyes drifted to the cup in his hands. A soft pink leaf floated in the warm water, and when he took a sip, he thanked the warm and sweetness in his tongue.

“We missed you too. It’s not good to leave problems in a drawer, you know. You need to make things right, or they won’t get better, and everyone will feel worse about it”. He grabbed the teapot and served himself more tea. “I think the same goes to what is tormenting you, friend. Only The Wildmother and I will listen, I can assure you.”

For the next forty five minutes or so, Essek bore his soul to Caduceus, without leaving a detail out. How, when he came back to Rosohna, told everything he did to Leylas Kryn and his Umavi, accepting every punishment they could think he deserved. How he was imprisoned under the Lucid Bastion, tortured by various Aurora Watch soldiers, and among them his own brother, Verin. He told him how the tortures lasted a week, or so they told him, because for him it was a lifetime. He explained how the tortures worked, how they entered your mind and took everything that mattered to you and destroyed it, one by one. He cried, telling him how he watched them die over and over, by his own hands or by members of the Assembly, how he tried to fight it every time just to obtain the same result. He was comforted when he confessed the only thing that he could control was the quickness of their deaths, how he tried to wake every one of the Nein, to no avail.

He was held when he said that he always tried to save Caleb before anyone else, and how the human always fell first, always being “I trusted you” his last words. And Caduceus cleaned his tears while he, full of shame, apologized for crying in front of him, for making him carry the burden of those images like he caused his brother Verin not many months ago.

“You do not need to apologize, Essek. How are you feeling?” he was again replenishing their cups of tea, the teapot almost empty.

He felt strangely better. Puffy eyes, tiredness washing over him, but he felt a bit more free. Like he was carrying a lighter weight after a long, heavy journey.

“I… don’t know. I’m tired. Ashamed, scared. There’s so many things they don’t know. So many things  _ I don’t want them _ to know.” Again, it wasn’t pity he feared the most, because the Mighty Nein didn’t work with that sentiment. They worked with love, a fearless and unapologetic one, and he still felt undeserving of it.

“Be still.” The cleric put his hand on Essek’s forehead, and he felt his emotions dialing down, until it was almost calm. The thoughts were still on his mind, but he was mostly unaffected by them. _He was okay_. “It’s that better?”

He nodded, knowing he casted calm emotions on him, and thanking him for it. He sighed, feeling strangely relieved after his whole confession. “Thanks for listening.”

“Thanks for being honest”, he grinned with his toothy smile again, looking like he was actually happy that the drow finally told someone his worries. “Does Caleb know?”

Why did _everyone_ keep asking about Widogast, he asked himself. Was he that obvious? Was he that dumb to leave his emotions in plain sight?

“He knows I’m not here on my own accord. He knows they tortured me, but he doesn’t know how. Please, Caduceus”, he asked, fear and shame again in his eyes, “you  _ can not _ tell him.”

“What is there to fear? If they took the most important thing from you to hurt you and it was Caleb, that is, in a way, a compliment. A heartfelt sentiment”. He looked quite puzzled, as Essek buried his face on his own hands. “Am I missing something? They think you’re heartless, a war criminal, this would show at least that you care about us.”

“For the Luxon…” he mumbled into the palm of his hands. Was he going to have to explain to Caduceus what that meant? What Caleb meant for him? “It is not that kind of feeling, Caduceus. I don’t feel the same about the group as I feel about Widogast. It’s different, you understand?”

He looked up from his hands to try to discern if the firbolg actually catched up. Caduceus’ face went through several stages that lasted about five minutes. Confusion first, then pensive (Essek could swear he heard the cogs of his brain from his seat), and in a split second, the realization and consequent fit of laughter that shook the firbolg chest.

“Oh. Oh I’m so sorry. I’m not laughing at you, it’s just… Oh, boy”, now it was Essek’s turn to look puzzled. “I’m not very good with those kinds of feelings. Oh, I’m so sorry, what a misunderstanding.”

He couldn’t help but laugh as well, because now someone knew. It was an inside joke, a dumb one, but it felt well to be honest, to trust his friends, this time for real.

They were so lost in the intensity, and then absurdity of the moment, that they didn’t notice that an orange cat, resting on the ledge of a close window, had slightly glowing blue eyes.


End file.
